


Navigator

by Trash_Queen



Category: Alien Series, Blade Runner (Movies), Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Genetic Engineering, Intrigue!, Mystery!, Obsidian Order, Weyland Industries, Weyland-Yutani, cardassians are not made for inhabiting mamillian-made spaces, deep space exploration!, post-borg war, tyrell corporation is there too
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-14
Updated: 2019-08-24
Packaged: 2020-01-13 09:14:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18465946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trash_Queen/pseuds/Trash_Queen
Summary: By 2369, the Earth is in shambles. A Third World War and Eugenics Wars has left a desolate planet in their wake, split the population between those who flee to offworld colonies in a bid for a better life and those who stay in busting, overcrowded cities that dot what is now a wasteland. The United Federation of Planets vies with The Weyland-Yutani and Tyrell Corporations for scientific research and control of resources and information.On the far reaches of the Alpha Quadrant, war is coming to an end. The Cardassian Union is withdrawing from Bajor, leaving a damaged planet, decimated population, a provisional government, and the Terok Nor station in Bajor's orbit, now the last port of call for ships traveling into the Gamma Quadrant. Into the unknown.Three months after it departs from Terok Nor, Benjamin Sisko awakens to find himself captain of Weyland-Yutani's ninth deep space mission into the Gamma Quadrant, his small crew tasked with spearheading a new botany project and mapping the quadrant. Officially. Sisko's still working on that one.





	1. Prologue

The ship is quiet. Brights off, dimmers and floor runners lighting the whole thing up with a soft, fluorescent glow.

Julian Bashir woke up with a stiff back, tense shoulders. The pod was cramped; he heard these things usually do. This was his first time out on one of these things; he had gotten the cat to go into stasis with him- It was the crew cat; orange tabby, getting a little fat, if he was being honest. It had spend the months curled up over his calves, cutting off his circulation. It bailed on him as soon as the pod opened, running to sniff around the door.

He swung his legs over the side, swaying unsteadily over to locker where the uniforms were stashed. They were all put under in their underwear- and the ship was kept chilly until they were supposed to wake up. The uniform was scratchy against his skin, khaki with blue trim. His name was embroidered on it:

_Dr. Julian S. Bashir_

_CMO_

_DS Mission Nine_

He zipped it up and ambled over to another locker.

The first thing he does is plod out to the mess hall, sidestepping the cat as it darts out the door when he opens it. Coffee- he needed coffee, something to eat- and water. Stasis made your mouth drier than the greater Sahara, apparently, and his head felt like it was filled with cotton-light and heavy simultaneously, like it would fall off his neck any minute, a symptom of dehydration.

The coffee came powdered, out of a packet; the water from a reclaimer. Even if its instant, the addition of creamer and sugar makes it passable. He resigns himself to the next five years without it. Maybe they'll get the real thing on Terok Nor when they get back, or real raktajino if a Klingon transport happens by. He wrote that thought off as highly improbable: nothing had wandered this far out into space, not that he knew of. He pulled a pack of dry food for the cat out, pouring it into a little dish labelled _Mr Kitty_. They'd need a better name for him.

Med Bay was his next stop, now that he was feeling less stuffed-with-cotton and more stuffed-with-organs, ignoring the rumbling in his stomach; eating immediately after coming out of stasis was ill-advised. Liquids only, for the first twenty-four hours. There were nutritional shakes until then, but he was already making plans for a nice bowl of oatmeal, or perhaps an omelette. That one might have to wait: a botanist was supposed to be aboard, researching and experimenting with cultivars friendly to long deep-space journeys. He heard she had tomatoes.

He took another drink of coffee as he booted up the computer to get a look at the crew manifest:

 

_Benjamin J Sisko, Captain, Weyland Corp; Ten years of service_

 

_Miles O'brien, Chief Engineer, Weyland Corp; Twenty years of service_

 

_Keiko O'brien, Chief Botanist, Weyland Corp; Seventeen years of service_

 

_Jadzia Dax, Science Officer, Weyland Corp; Seven years of service_

 

_Worf Rodzhenko, Chief of Security, Weyland Corp; Fifteen years of service_

 

_Kira Nerys, Bajoran Militia Attache; Bajoran Government; One year of service_

 

_Elim Garak, Assistant Chief Botanist, Cardassian Science Academy; Twenty years of service_

 

The requisite bout of health issues: Low vaccine tolerance from Sisko, a burgeoning case of arthritis for Miles O'brien, mostly in the knees and elbows- mild pollen allergy for Keiko, Kira's bad shoulder, Garak's impending bout with mild hypothermia and some relatively poor eyesight.

He stared Garak's name on the terminal- Cardassia was renowned for its xenophobia. They didn't let outsiders onto their planets easily, and the ones who went off-world were known for being secretive and stand-offish. To one line of thought, his presence was an anomaly. To another, it was Cardassia reaching out in a post-occupation world; they're losing their colonies, their control over Bajor, so they have to pivot- Garak's presence was, very possibly, a PR stunt. Or, to another, _a spy_ \- he blinked at the terminal- _trying to steal Weyland secrets_ ; obviously the most delicious line of thought.

Either way, a twitching, fuzzy green line of text wouldn't tell him. He'd have to wait until the rest of them woke up. _One month, two days, three hours, fifteen minutes, eleven seconds ahead of time._

Augmented genes, a joy. They typically didn't plan around it, the technicians putting them under, how the anesthetics, tranquilizers, nutrient slurry and brain wavelength suppressors interacted with an engineered genetic makeup. It wasn't their fault. He was less than forthcoming with the truth, course-correcting for over a century of eugenics warfare and bias on Earth. He entertained a bitter fantasy of being born off-world, in a place where genetic enhancement was normal, wasn't a half-step up from _replicant_ and ten steps below _human_ ; or an alternate reality where his parents had decided Jules didn't need a supercomputer for a brain at all; these fantasies amounted to nothing. He had made it to starfleet, and he had paid dearly to have his records and the details of his dishonorable discharge buried before he went to Weyland, as inconsequential as they may be there. He simply hadn't planned to be assigned to a deep space mission so early. An inter-solar freighter, perhaps. Or one of the few humanitarian missions Weyland was sending out from Terok Nor. Not the Gamma Quadrant.

One month, two days, three hours, fourteen minutes, forty-five seconds to figure out a plan to cover his early wake-up call and reconfigure the anesthetics and tranqs and suppressors. Less than that, actually- he would give himself a week. That should be doable.

One month, two days, three hours, thirteen minutes and fifty-five seconds to start to figure out what _exactly_ the were doing out in the Gamma Quadrant. He pulled himself back around to the terminal, sipping at the coffee and typing rapid-fire access and pass codes into the computer, trying to dig into their mission files. Maybe he'd be able to find it through Medbay's computers- maybe he'd have to get to Mother, and wouldn't that be a lovely little challenge.

The cat twined around his legs, whining for attention. The ship hummed silently in the background, sliding further into the Gamma Quadrant.


	2. Chapter One: Waking Up

It's warm. There's sunlight on his back and shoulders, and hot sand beneath his feet. There's the sound of waves somewhere in the background- he looks to the sea and it's the sea but it's not. It makes no sense- there's no beaches like this on earth, no sunlight keeping him warm, and the sands on the California beaches are cold. Clammy. But it _feels_ right, it's where he _should_ be: the sound of someone's laughter makes him turn, a full three-sixty to look for it, and when he finishes it she's there, lounging on a towel with a drink in her hand.

Jennifer. Laughing with an unmoving smile at an unheard joke, told by an unseen friend. He tries to take a step towards her- he knows this part well, walking up and introducing himself; she'll brush her hair behind her left ear and he'll smile at her comments because she's the most wonderful person lined up at the beach, or sitting at the street bar. Because she's Jennifer, of course she is.

The heat of the sun and the sand keeps getting hotter, and hotter, until it's almost unbearable- it's not sunlight anymore, it's melting steel. The fire's everywhere, the superstructure is buckling around him and she's stuck underneath a girder, where his arms can't reach her because they're too short and _it's too hot_

The cryopod wakes Captain Benjamin Sisko with an incessant beep. A stimulant is being fed through a micro iv in his arm, and a fresh, cool mix of oxygen and nitrogen is pumped into the pod. The top lifts, and he's left to pull the micro iv out and sit up with the rest of the crew, their pods all arrayed around a central pillar in the cryo bay. It doesn't take long for them to start talking- groaning and stretching, twisting after months of sleep, bickering about how cold it is or how hungry they are. Somewhere in the sleepy chatter, the voice of the ships doctor cuts through, unfairly coherent enough to order them into sickbay for post-sleep physicals. They stay clustered together for a moment more before dispersing, O’Brien shuffling in first while the rest of them take turns in the refreshers in cryobay.

 

A minute in the refresher and he’s pulled into Dr. Bashir’s sickbay, shivering slightly with the cold. They’re still in their cryowear, which is just another fancy word for ‘underwear’, and the ship is kept at a cool sixty degrees on the main decks. Sisko curls his toes and misses the hot feel of the sand. Bashir is disturbingly awake as he administers a round of second stage vaccinations, takes a full body scan and a few samples (hair, saliva, blood, etc) and he’s cleared to dress. The scratchy cotton has never felt so comfortable. He leaves and heads to the common area, where O’Brien has already started rooting through boxes of dehydrated food along one wall, already cleared by Bashir. Keiko’s nowhere to be seen, but Kira’s standing over his shoulder, still in her cryowear and watching, caught between cautious and excited- like she can’t totally trust what’s in the box, or herself to not grab it. He smells hot coffee, and knows Miles is frowning at the bags of chicken curry and meatloaf that he can’t eat just yet.

“It’s always the damned nutrient shakes, I can never get used to ‘em,” he grumbles, finally picking up one of the pouches labeled ‘strawberry peanut butter.’ Both him and Miles have been on these ships long enough to know that the flavor is always a particular kind of vitamin-laden sawdust. Kira dives into the box after him, plucking out another pouch and asking him to hold onto it for her before waking off to sickbay, just as Garak slides through the door. No one misses the sour look she gives him on her way out. There’s barely a breath before Garak started talking-

“Captain Sisko! Chief O’Brien! Both well-rested, I assume?”

Miles grunted an affirmative, shaking his water-and-protein mixture together. His stomach made a very audible gurgling noise.

Sisko chuckled before reaching for his own pack of dehydrated shake. Vanilla and honey flavored.

“And yourself, Mr. Garak?”

“Just fine! I’ve always felt quite refreshed after cryosleep, if a bit stiff. Nothing some light exercise can’t take care of.”

“Got a bit of work to do in those Jeffries’ tubes if you’re looking for exercise.” Miles shoots him a look. “Plenty of exercise there.”

“And disturbingly tight spaces. No, I’m afraid I’ll have to decline,” Miles rolls his eyes and shuffles to the other end of the kitchen, closer to the coffee. “A walk about the ship might be more appropriate, if you would like to accompany me, Captain. I’ve never been on a Wayland ship, it might be prudent to familiarize myself.”

“More _prudent_ to keep you in the Botany Bay,” Kira strides back through the door, clad in a salmon-colored Bajoran uniform. “Can’t touch anything you don’t need to there.” Miles grunts from behind his much of coffee and tosses the protein pack Kira set aside. She caught it and emptied it into her cup. “Prophets know you people can’t keep your claws off things you shouldn’t.”

“If by ‘claws’ you mean ’fingers,’ Major, I assure you- I have no intention of touching anything I’m not meant to. I’m quite content to keep them to the things that actually require my attention.”

Kira rolls her eyes and goes to stand with O’Brien. They speak softly, but Sisko is sure he hears the words ‘cardie bastard’ and ‘spy’ being exchanged.

“Speaking of things that require your attention,” He offers the tub of shake packets.

Garak takes a moment before pulling out a random one, not even looking at the label as he prepares it. Sisko sips his in silence, waiting on the next crewman to come through the door. Beside him, Garak lets out a hiss.

“This is vile,” He frowns.

Sisko picks up the empty packet- peanut butter and banana.

“It’s cloyingly sweet- is all earth food like this?”

“Depends on what you eat- I’m told Keiko has species of tropical fruit she’s cultivating aboard. Maybe there’s some real banana in there.”

“Well, it’s no substitute for Rokassa juice, that’s certain- now there’s a truly refreshing drink for post-cryo recovery.”

“I’ll have to take your word for it.”

The door opens again, and Keiko walks through with Dax, laughing together. She makes a beeline to Miles, and they fold each other into an embrace like it’s the most natural thing in the world, Keiko stealing a sip of his coffee as she turns back to the counter. Dax comes to stand beside them, rooting through the box. She eventually rights herself, shaking a packet vigorously.

“Morning, Benjamin!”

“Morning, old man.”

She turns to Garak after grabbing her cup of water and dumping the powder in; he beats her to a greeting-

“Is that the peanut better and banana one? It’s terrible, I’d advise against it.”

“Well, luckily for me I grabbed-“ She looks at the name. “Chocolate.” She takes a sip and shrugs. “They all taste the same, honestly. I wish we had those replicators- you know, the ones the _Enterprise_ series has.”

“It certainly can’t be worse than this,” Garak looks back into the cup.

“Well, we’ll just have to make do with this for now. And what comes out of the Botany Bay- We’re relying on you and Dr. O’brien to keep us fed,” Sisko grins at him. “I can make a mean gumbo if we’ve got the vegetables for it.”

“Why, Captain, I do believe we have the motivation to provide the crew with the very best, if that’s the plan! Tell me, what is ‘gumbo’, exactly?”

Worf ambles in like a dark cloud just then, followed by a cautious looking Dr. Bashir.

“I’m afraid I’ll just have to leave that a surprise, Mr. Garak,” He puts his now empty cup in the recycler and turns to the room. “Since everyone’s here, I believe it’s time for a crew meeting.”

 

The faces staring back at Benjamin Sisko looked, on the whole, less than excited. All sitting around the one round table in the center of the room, a jumble of _routine-bored-tired-nervous-untrusting-blase_.

“Welcome to Deep Space Nine. This ship is an Exploration-class interstellar freighter currently deployed to the Gamma Quadrant. Our mission, as given to us by Wayland-Yutani Corporate Headquarters, is to chart the quadrant, and potentially make contact with who- or what- we find out here. We are here to observe, nothing more. Our secondary mission is to spearhead the new botanical experimentation division, to grow genetically modified plant cultivars as food sources for deep space missions and to test and create a diverse, self-sustaining biome that can be utilized by deep space missions and colonies in the future. This will be carried out under the watchful eyes of Dr. Keiko O’Brien and Mister Elim Garak, whom the Cardassian Science Academy has been so kind to lend to us. The rest of you are under my direct supervision. Any questions?”

"I have one," Kira speaks up. Sisko gave her a nod and she continues;

“Is the presence of a Cardassian liaison necessary for the execution of this mission?” 

“The Weyland Corporation feels that it is.”

She scoffed.

“I’m afraid I don’t agree.”

Garak lounged on the periphery, apparently unbothered by Kira’s complaint.

“Your disagreement is noted. Are there any other questions?”

“What do we know of the potential dangers of the Gamma Quadrant?” Worf spoke up from the back. “The security briefing was… vague.” The way he said it suggested that ‘vague’ was the worst possible thing for it to be.

“We’re here to correct that vagueness, Mister Worf. I’m as uncomfortable about it as you are, believe me.”

“I would like to go over ships defenses and security plans with you, all the same.”

“I believe we can make some time later today. Anything else?”

The tone made it clear that there wouldn’t, in fact, be anything else.

“I do just want to say,” heads swiveled to look at Dr. Bashir, standing up but trying to look as eager and polite as possible. “I’m very excited to be on this mission, and with all of you. The Gamma Quadrant is the last great mystery, and getting to explore it, well- it’s a great privilege, honestly. Your physicals all looked very good, and if there’s any medical problem that needs attention please come find me- but I’d like to see Mr. Garak and Major Kira- at your earliest conveniences, of course.”

“Not at the same time, I’d hope? Major Kira might be uncomfortable,” Garak tilted his head.

“No, not- not at the same time, no.” Dr. Bashir shook his head, looking a bit sheepish before sitting back down.

“Thank you, Doctor.” Sisko smiled. “Now, if there are no other questions or statements, I believe we should all get to our stations.”

He didn’t wait before striding out to his ready room. Cryosleep always took a lot out of him, they had a skeleton crew and inventories to start and courses to chart in the next twenty-four hours, and he was hoping to catch a moment to record a message to send back to Jake. It had been almost two months since they had left Terok Nor; he had left his son under the direct supervision of a small contingent of of Federation diplomats facilitating Bajor and Cardassia’s peace agreement- and the Weyland officials who would no doubt try and poach favors from either side.

Behind him, the common area pairs off into its separate factions. Worf and Miles descended into a conversation about maintenance and security; Keiko found Garak and Jadzia, chatting as they headed out to the BioBay. Julian looked around for a moment before catching Kira’s eye, leaning over and asking her if she’d like to go ahead and do her follow-up now or later, _later, thank you_ , and alright, I’ll buzz you at oh-eight-hundred tomorrow, before duties, turning away before she could decline and hurrying off to MedBay. Kira looked towards where Captain Sisko exited before following. The orange tabby, which had been sniffing around for anything besides cat chow before settling under one of the chairs, watched her leave before it slunk off in the direction Keiko, Jadzia and Garak had gone. BioBay was bound to be warm.


	3. Kira's Complaints; The First Day in BioBay

_Hello, Jake. I just wanted to send you a quick message from the Gamma Quadrant, letting you know we arrived safely. It looks about the same as any other quadrant right now, but I think we’ll find something really exciting this time. I hope everything’s going well on Terok Nor- stay out of trouble, and keep up with your school work. I want to see those A’s when I get back-_ The door chime called out behind him. _Don’t forget to call your Grandfather- I love you._

The recording fizzed out as he stopped and sent it. Ben turned and pressed his thumb into a lockbox reader, input his passcode after that, and took out a baseball in return. He closed it back up and took a seat behind the plain desk, straightened his uniform and spoke “Enter.” Major Kira strode in, eyeing the room like she was unsure of it. Captain’s ready rooms were sparse- not very big, very grey, and equip with the aforementioned lockbox, a view port, data terminal, chairs and little else. She stopped and stood at the other side of his desk, arms behind her back- even insurgents knew how to stand at attention.

“Captain Sisko, I have some- _concerns_ I would like to discuss with you personally.”

“I assume this is about Mister Garak.”

“It is.”

He gestured to the chair across the desk. “Have a seat.”She did. “I assume your concerns were not properly addressed at the crew meeting.”

“They are not- Captain, I have reservations about the presence of a Cardassian on this ship. I doubt the sincerity of the Cardassian Science Academy in sending Garak out to be a part of this mission. And I don’t know if I can do my duties to the best of my ability with him on board.”

Sisko turned the baseball in his hands, nodding. “What, specifically, are your reservations?”

“The Cardassian Government doesn’t care about the viability of independent biomes on deep space missions, and they don’t care about inter-galactic relations. They’re more concerned about protecting their secrets and their home world than exploring the Gamma Quadrant, and I feel that Garak’s presence on this ship is an attempt to collect information on the Gamma Quadrant while they recover from the loss of Bajor.”

“I see. So, you think Garak is a spy?” The baseball made another turn in his hand.

“I do,” Kira nodded. He put the baseball down and looked at her.

“And you have evidence to back up this claim?”

“Evidence?”

“What you are asserting is that a member of my crew is a spy intent on stealing information we collect on this mission- something I can no longer do anything about now that this mission is underway. I hope you know what a serious accusation this is.”

“With all do respect, Captain,” Kira leaned forward and rested her hands on the desk, palms-up. “I’ve read the Weyland Corporation’s code of conduct. It explicitly states that any member of a crew can be dealt with as the captain sees fit if intending to take any object or information they collect on their expeditions. It’s a very clear code- you can put Garak back in stasis, you can put him in solitary confinement for the rest of the journey- you could execute him, if you wanted.”

Sisko leaned back in his chair as they measured each other up for a moment. Kira looked tense. He knew what she was saying, what she was asking. He didn’t know what, exactly, he was going to do.

“You are suggesting I either isolate Garak or kill him.”

“I know it sounds harsh if you’re not from Bajor, but I’ve dealt with Cardassians all my life. Garak is a danger to this mission. He’s a danger to the crew.”

“Did you file any complaint about the composition of the crew with Weyland before we left?”

“Three. And another two with the provisional government on Bajor.”

“Hm.” He nodded. His hand returned to the baseball. “Major Kira, if Weyland did not see a reason to change the members of the crew before we left, there is very little I can do about it now. And I can not imprison or execute a member of my crew without clear, just cause.”

“ _Without clear cause_? Captain, I fought the Cardassians since I was old enough to hold a phaser- I worked with some of the most well informed resistance cells during the occupation-“

“Do you have anything- _any_ piece of information about Garak specifically- that would give me a reason to do what you are suggesting?”

“We had information that an Obsidian Order agent was placed on Terok Nor as the occupation ended- who and in what capacity was unclear, but the timing of Garak showing up to the station and this mission would suggest-“

“I cannot operate the way you are suggesting based on assumptions.”

Kira fell quiet.

“I can’t claim to know what the occupation was like for you or the Bajoran people. And I can’t do anything as extreme as jailing a member of my crew on another crew member’s conjecture. What I can do is log your complaints-“

“ _Log my complaints-_ “ She interrupted, looking for all the world like nothing would please her more than to punch him right in the face and carry on with the aforementioned imprisonment-then-execution herself. Sisko held up a hand and resumed speaking-

“What I can do is log your complaints and monitor Garak’s activity on this ship _personally_. I understand how important this issue is to you; all I ask is that you understand that this is the best I can do right now.”

“I understand perfectly, Captain.” Kira stood up. All the anger and disappointment had been shut behind an impassive mask for now. “ _Thank you_ for taking the time to _log my complaints_.”

Sisko stood up as well, and tried to calculate his next statement for effectiveness, not pity.

“As of this moment, my hands are tied. I can only ask that you keep your contact with him at a minimum, and that if you discover anything to corroborate what you say, that you come to me directly.”

“I’ll do that, Captain. Don’t worry.”

Something about the way she said it made him doubt, very much, that she would come to him first. She squared her shoulders, turned on her heel, and strode out.

He sat back down and picked the baseball up again, tossing it in the air as he looked out the port. How to best handle Major Kira and Mister Garak, he wasn’t sure.

 

* * *

 

The labs were situated across from each other, jack-and-jill style with another lab between them. Jadzia’s simulators and computer bays on one side, Garak and Keiko’s Biobay on the other. The three of them had chatted amicably on the way down- Garak and Keiko about exchanging Terran and Cardassian cultivars (the few the Science Academy had sent along with him), the different varieties in the Wayland databases from Trill and Vulcan and Quo’nos. The unfortunate lack of Bajoran cultivars (Garak’s words).

“Nothing we can do about it right now,” Keiko shrugs. “We’ll just have to make up for it on the next one.”

“Yes, we will, won’t we?” Garak smiled, looking down at the cat as it caught up to them, winding its way around his legs. “Although the presence of this delightful creature almost makes up for it at present!” He reached down and scratched behind its ears.

“Do you not have cats on Cardassia?” Jadzia asked.

“We have a number of smaller mammals that are similar, but nothing _exactly_ like _cats_ , no. It’s temperament is quite lovely.” The cat leaned into the scratches, shaking its head when it stopped.

Jadzia leaned down to pet the cat before straightening up and heading to her lab; Garak and Keiko turned and stepped into theirs.

Biobay was blissfully warm compared to the rest of the ship. The thermostat held at twenty-two degrees centigrade throughout the main body of the bay, with different zones regulated at temperatures from fifteen to thirty-two degrees, humid to dry, to simulate different environments. Garak found himself longing for the zone that came closest to Cardassia- dryer and warmer than most species were used to. “I assume we are to start planting right away,” He walked over to the computer console mounted into the wall to access the seed database. “Which biome should we start in?”

“We can go straight to the Cardassian one, if you want.” Keiko had keyed in the code to open the main workstation; it slid out from behind a plastic panel, a tabletop and various tubes with already-sprouting specimens. “I know you like it to be a little warmer and less humid than most humanoids like.”

“The burden of being a reptilian species, I’m afraid- we favor conditions a majority of mammalian species find intolerable in the long term. I requested some warmer clothes be included in my personal things, I’ll retrieve them later today. We can start anywhere you like.”

“Well, if you’re sure you don’t mind, I’m gonna start in the tropics.” She grabbed half of the requisite tubes and he grabbed the others. “I got to go into a holo-replica of the South Asian tropics once, for school. Old Vietnam, India, Cambodia- I really liked it, despite the bugs. And the fruit! Have you ever heard of cherimoya?” Keiko led them into the Tropics bay; the humidity immediately made her hair frizz. Garak frowned as it became a sticky second skin.

“I can’t say that I have. What are Vietnam, India and Cambodia like now?”

“Underwater, mostly- have been since, I don’t know, 2035?”

“How unfortunate.”

“We managed to save a lot of the native flora, fortunately, so it’s not totally lost.”

They moved through planting fairly quickly between the two of them, and before long were headed to the next zone.

“I don’t think I ever heard why you chose to become a botanist,” Keiko was halfway through a selection of lettuces selected for a more moderate climate. “We never got a chance to talk before we were put in stasis.”

“They never did give us the chance to get acquainted, did they? My father was a gardener.” He turned to pick up another sprout. “What was shared interest quickly became a much deeper passion for me.”

“Were you two close?”

“Not particularly. Gardening was the only thing we really shared. I worked with him before deciding to study at the Science Academy. But enough about me- why did you choose to become a botanist?”

“I don’t know,” Keiko shrugged. “My mother kept some smaller plants, but they weren’t really around in Kumamoto. The environment isn’t right anymore, so I’d see most plant life in books and simulations. After that it just seemed like the right thing to do.”

“You consider yourself an archivist.”

“A little,” Keiko smiled, examining a seedling before placing it in its’ row.

They finished the rest of the work over the course of hours, their chatter turning from favorite species and sub-species to school memories to Keiko telling him more about Earth and Garak telling her more about Cardassia between comfortable silences filled with the sounds of digging, entering data on padds, and during a break for water and another nutrient shake.

“Can I ask you something?” They were exiting the last biome, the Cardassian one- dry, sandy, hot- Keiko wiped sweat from her brow and Garak seemed even more awake than before.

“Of course.”

“Well, I was just wondering why Cardassia would start sending people outside of its territories now. It always seemed like the Cardassian government was intent on remaining isolated.” Keiko turned to the workstation and grabbed a couple of dri-wipes, handing a couple to Garak and wiping her hands before going to the computer to transfer the data from their first working day.

“The Science Academy sent me, not the government- although without their approval I wouldn’t be here,” He shrugged. “I have to confess that I actually haven’t been on Cardassia for quite a while, and I didn’t follow our politics very closely while I was away. I’ve been working on Romulus for the past three years, at the Cardassian embassy.”

“Oh!” Keiko’s curiosity piqued. “Why would they need a botanist at the embassy? Another exchange?”

“I was on sabbatical from the Academy, they sent me to be embassy gardener. Central Command and the military probably felt that made me a better candidate for this exchange plan with Weyland.”

“Ah,” She smiled. “I’ve never been to Romulus. Did you enjoy it?”

“Few people have. I found their weather pleasant and the plants were interesting; but they lack a certain passion we Cardassians have. And taste in design- the shirts are tailored terribly.” He frowned. Keiko laughed as she shut the computer down.

“I think it’s about time for dinner- Miles should be off his first shift. Do you want to eat with us?”

“I appreciate the invitation, but I think I should go see doctor Bashir before eating.” Garak smiled. “But thank you for asking.”

On their way out Keiko knocked on the door to Jadzia’s lab, extending the same invitation to dinner as Garak made his way to sick bay. The cat was nowhere to be found.

**Author's Note:**

> DS9 au!!! Someone speculated that "Alien" and "Blade Runner" take place in the same universe, and I love both of those movies and wanted to put DS9 in there too. So it's kind of the mirror universe, but different.  
> This is the first (and so far only) truly longform story I've ever attempted so hopefully it turns out ok. I'll try and stay ahead of it and keep everything planned out, we'll see how it goes :P


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